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PS 3503 



.0936 
04 
1910 
Copy 1 




ji'<i 



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Class 




Book 



GopyiightN°_ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



The Quest of The Christ 
in New York ^^W 

JiNT> COSMIC CORALS 



By 
^JIIZIE R. BOYLE 







BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO., 
835 Broadway, New York. 






^ A^^ 



\cxx0 



Copyriglit, 1910, 

by 

VAIZIE R. BOYLE. 



C.Ci.A2:U>333 









DEDICATION. 

To THE COURAGEOUS SOULS WHO ARE 
LISTENING WITH EARS ATTUNED TO THE 

MIGHTY MUSIC OF VIBRANT TRUTH, 

AND WHO ARE PLAYING THE GRAND ROLE OF 

NOBLE SINCERITY in life's theatre 

BY simple loyalty TO THEIR HIGHEST AND 
HOLIEST CONVICTIONS 

I Dedicate This Little Volume. 



PRELUDE. 

Life, mysterious, comes in dreams. 
In shadow, mist and rain, 
Elusive, baffling, we search in vain 
The secret of its pulsing, surging streams. 
Abstract knowledge sheds no light 
On its shifting scenes. 
Conjecture meets abyssmal depths 
Shared with Science's themes. 

Silent, defiant, aggressive power. 
Creative force its pregnant dower, 
Beauty, foulness, virtue, sin, 
Its prerogatives dwell there-in. 
Soul of angel, demon's form. 
Eyes of maiden, wild rose's thorn 
Unkempt outcast, king on throne 
Feel ITS THROB, UNSEEN, UNKNOWN. 

Oh! life unending who shall paint 
Thy myriad attributes in colors quaint, 
Seraphic bliss and sorrow's taint. 
Live in Buddha, Christ, Sinner, Saint, 
As the vapor rides the sun-beam, 
Returning to the sod. 
Feeds the tiny rootlets, 
We term it fecund moisturS, 
Its PROPER NAME IS God. 



PREFACE. 

The few rhythmic thoughts herein have 
been suggested through witnessing the kalei- 
doscopic views of life in New York City. 
One may safely attest the like contrasts ap- 
pear in every hamlet and cosmopolitan city 
on this planet, differing only in intensity and 
degree. JVe are now in the throes of a 
spiritual unrest, unsatisfied capacities, and 
urgent moral wants. Souls are crying for 
bread, stones no longer will suffice. Who 
will minister unto the multitude as did the 
gentle Christ of old? Take an abstract view 
of the illustration, the lights and shades of 
the contrasting personalities so well por- 
trayed by the Artist Mr. TV. J. English and 
judge for yourselves. 

In offering these leaves to my readers, 
permit me to say with Ruskin: ''This is the 
best of me; for the rest, I ate and drank and 
slept and loved and hated like another, my 
life was as the vapor and is not; but this I 
saw and knew, this, if anything of mine, is 
worth your memory.^* 

The Author. 
The Rookery, 

Nov. ^rd, igog. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Quest of The Christ in New York City . .. I 

The Dream of the Red Rose 47 

Cosmic Corals: 

The Home of Ideals ......;.. .. . 63 

The Call of the Wind 64 

In Quest of the Fairies 65 

The Plea of the Soul . . :.. . ...... 66 

A Prayer ............ ... .. ., 67 

The Dual Tone . 68 

The Marriage of Joy ..... ... .. . . . 70 

The Voice of Song . ... ,. ..; ... . -.^ ... i. 73 

Inspiration .>.... 74 

Spinning the Cosmic Robe . . ., > ... .. .. 75 

The Chord of the Choir Invisible . . . . - . 77 

The Betrayal of Mike Grady . . . . . > . 81 

Tones from the Voice of the Wind .. .. .. < . 91 

Twilight Hour 91 

The Song of the Flowers ..... .. >^ . .. 92 

The Song of the Golden-Rod . ,.. . .. ;.. . . 92 

The Poppy's Secret . ,. . . .; j, j.^ .., ... . 93 

The Fairies' Farewell to the Moon. ..... 93 



THE QUEST OF THE CHRIST 

IN 

NEW YORK CITY. 





Miiniiuiiiiipiiim 



i 




"^SSi^SS^' 



PEACE! BE NOT AFRAID. FOR SUCH AS TIIUU, I LONlJ AND OFT 
HAVE PRAYED, I AM THE CHRIST." (Sir page. l,S.) 



£Xuest of Cf)e Cl^ri0t 



THE QUEST OF THE CHRIST IN 
NEW YORK CITY. 

Autumn had donned her robe of russet 

brown 
As a sort of greeting 
To November whose allotted sands 
Were softly fleeting, 

And who seemed to view the glowing hue 
Of Indian's Summer's garb 
With chill resentment, 
Annoyed that any of Nature's children 
Should look on the encroachments of the 

Icy King 
With contentment. 
Along the shore the lapping wave 
Intoned its song in metre grave. 
Twinkling lights from the moored vessels 

gave 
A weird, wild beauty to the Waters of the 

Bay 
In whose rocking arms 
The City of New York lay. 

Misty shadows o'er the sky-light crept 
Where rosy Twilight on Day's bosom wept 



jClue0t of C6e €6rf$t 



Soft, Intermittent tears grieving 

For the passing glory of the Sun 

Whose opal splendor 

Mingling with the clouds, had spun 

A veil of unearthly beauty 

Shimmering gold and green, 

As if the form of disrobing Day 

From Night's approach would screen. 

The Wind was sweet as a mother's croon 

To sleeping babe 

Till white-caps rode on the surging wave 

Telling of storm on the ocean's breast, 

Then sang with wild unrest 

A challenge to the storm 

To do its best. 

Clouds came lowering at the Wind's behest. 
Ragged, rumbling, with dread lightning 

shod, 
Roars of thunder echoed far and wide 
Like wraiths of laughter to deride 
Puny man shivering with fear 
At the mad storm's nod 
Yet, whose feeble intellect, and o'erweenlng 

pride 
The power of God In Nature 
Would proscribe. 

Oh ! that man would strive to grow 
E'en as a flower groweth 
En-rapport with Nature, 

2 



in Jl^eto gotk Citp 



In pregnant faith and dew-laden hope 
Knowing, that all her laws doth precurse 
The secret of the Universe. 

A hurrying, scurrying herd of humanity 

Rushed to the waiting boats 

Thoughts on home were bent, 

Trusting to an inward hope 

The fierce storm would relent, 

Leave the land In peace and on the sea 

Its raging fury vent. 

Holding aloof from the strenuous throng 

Was a youth, calm, serene, from whose eyes 

Flashed a gleam of mirth 

Revealing, that In his view of things, 

Of sunshine, was no dearth. 

"Ye gods of war I What ails the maddened 

crowd 
Of rain to be afraid I 
Such helter, skelter, soon to swelter 
'Neath the ferry's shade. 
You'd think that every mother's son 
From cane-stalk juice was made." 

"Oh I Mother Nature, glorious queen, 

I thank thy wondrous power 

Thy smiles, thy tears, thy fruitful years 

Alternate sun and shower; 

Rain and mist, thy love hath kissed 

Into a radiant flower 

3 



jCtue^t of Cfte €fjris;t 



Ever blooming in my heart, 

Effulgent joy its dower 

Of fragrance passing sweet, 

That all along life's dusty highways 

Noisome weeds I meet. 

Yet, fair and foul alike I greet. 

Above all ills I tower, glad to know 

That pain and bliss, alike, aroma throw, 

And blend in the chalice from which we quaff 

Life's nectar. In thy sun-kissed fields 

Is found pure Wisdom's bread 

So to the Wind's wild play 

I fling the fluffy chaffy 

Of time's puerile praise or jeer 

And greet each day 

With loving, grateful cheer." 

"Ach sol Ere Night hangs low her sable 

tents 
A vigil must I keep 
With sea-breeze brine and thus entwine 
Health's garland while I sleep. 
But — who stands there, quite debonnair 
Close to the water's edge? 
By m' troth! 'tis a form whose line of 

symmetry 
In truth divine 
Worthy a sculptor's wedge 
To chisel in marble and thus portray 
A man who looks a victor 
4 



in Ji3cto gotfe Citp 



Triumphant over clay. 

He has an air bespeaking rare culture 

Admixing intellect with seraphic spirit, 

Not usually classed indigenous 

To the clime of our commercial town. 

His bearing, calm^ dignity worthy a crown 

No doubt, a foreign prince traveling incog 

Desirous to view and its ways to construe 

The town as he sees it, 

From sunshine to fog." 

Close to the sea wall was another form 

Searching, with uplifted face, 

The troubled sky, as tho' sweet lineaments 

Of peace to trace 

On the stern, grim visage of the Storm King 

Who might cease to frown 

And withdrew his cloud-enveloped Warriors 

From the town. 

So the story runs — This was a Seraph bright 

Returned from realms of Light 

Won by valorous deeds; 

Unto his fellow men while life's sands ran 

He proved a friend in need. 

The gende Christ and he had come 

In quest of a Church healing, 

Thought-power, and God in Nature reveal- 

^ng, 
Where souls might grow, free from the 

grasp 



£tue0t of Cbe Cf)ri0t 



Of Superstition's morbid greed. 

"Perhaps, I may be of service, 

Writers tell that "Hospitality is 

The flower of culture," 

It cannot be amiss to greet the stranger, 

Altho I court the danger 

Of being classed as a man-vulture 

Birds of prey who lead astray 

And pounce on the unwary traveller, 

However, I'll take some chances, 

A few advances, on my own "recognances." 

Pardon; I trust I seem not rude. 

Nor do I wish self or services to Intrude 

Save, as thou, thyself cares to receive. 

On thy gentle presence and mien of high 

import -v '- 
An auriole of dignity, disdaining 
Unwelcome advances, doth disport, 
Hence, Idle curiosity is relegated 
To the officious herd 
Who with idle prattle and unseemly haste 
Will ask. names ? nation? absurd! 
As tho' a man were at the beck and nod 
Of these exclamations? so-called men 
In lieu of mere explicit, evoluted term 
Known to science's ken." 

"Here's my card, a simple bard 
A trifle known to fame, 
6 



in j^eU) gorfe €itp 

To Truth, to my fellow man, in tender love 

I consecrate my name; 

A lover I of land and sky 

Of wind, of mist, of rain, 

And of all the wondrous phantasma 

In Nature's vast domain. 

At this sweet season of Earth's year 

Again my youth renews. 

Yon sky holds life's elixir 

In its gorgeous sun-set views. 

I feel the throes of beauty's birth 

Within my inmost soul 

Glad Joy fills me with ecstatic mirth 

O'er which, I've no control; 

I fain would dance, and cheer, and sing, 

To the laughing Vv^ind 

Life's shadows fling 

To the sea I come when day's task is done 

To watch the setting of the glorious sun, 

When I saw thee stand in 

The pouring rain 

Your soul, I felt, sang with mine 

A glad refrain. 

The stranger bowed and smiled; 

"Thanks my cheerful friend, the fates for- 

fend 
That I should look with ill 
On your courtesy proffered; 
Poor indeed, the creed or code 
7 



£lue0t of C6e €hti$t 



That would with suspicion or ingratitude 

corrode 
A kindness thus offered. 
Earth holds no sweeter, purer gift 
Than the tiny rift made by Intuition 
Thru the veil that screens one soul from 

another, 
By which we see, and hear, views, tones, 

perfect, 
Consonant, which draw one nearer, 
As to a brother 

With a tie, stronger, more soul-felt than if 
We claimed the selfsame mother 
I came here to view the passing glory 
Of the orb of day, 
I await a friend, my stay will end 
When the Morning Star greets Earth 
With its tender ray.' 

Poets have freakish natures, 

Alternate sun and shade, grief and joy, 

Pain and bliss come with the kiss of the 

Muse 
Who doth the Imagination Infuse 
With Fancy's decoction, until narcotic-like 
One becomes imbued with ideals, visions, 

dreams; 
Facts wear an aspect whose ephemeral hues 
Change with each passing wind, 
8 



in i^eUJ gork (^it^ 



So doth the view of men and things 
Fluttering with Time's translucent wings 
Vary as the tints of the chameleon 
In the windows of the Mind. 
Friendship, to me is divine, sexless, 
High above the mating instinct 
Falsely termed loz-e, a libel thru which pas- 
sion 
Slanders the source of all created good. 
Drawing its victims thru that holy name; 
Love's array is pure, Its light a brilliant 

flame. 
Passion guides to devious ways 
Its torch is wreathed in smoke-mist, 
Ofttimes, its garb is nameless shame." 

"Thou art, as I supposed, a stranger, 
Egad! I'd be awfully glad 
A good time on thee to bestow 
If you'll give me the right 
I'll show thee the sights of the town 
Of New York in a row. 
Of the house, we're the steeple 
Time's built for the people 
Who live out their lives by the Western 

Seas, 
By word and example, 
We're a pretty fair sample 
Of all who must hustle and bustle for bread, 
Life seems one long patching 




jClue0t of ^bt Cf)ri0t 



Of hatching and scratching 

From the time we arise, till Night finds us 

abed, 
'TIs tolling and moiling, the driver, the 

driven, 
Aye, both of them sweet. 
Mad racing and pacing in anxious endeavor 
The money to get 

For bills of the butcher, the baker. 
Then comes undertaker, the last bill 
The biggest of all to be met. 
Life's ills we endure 
For naught can allure the Natives away 
From this Island of Fret." 

An April mixture, this town of ours 

'Tis tears and joys, life's rain, 

Sunshine, and blessed showers. 

A chaotic masquerade at which 

Poverty and Wealth alike parade 

Their unkempt form.s from which grace is 

shorn 
By disordered, flagrant show. 
Wealth thrusts her surplus like a cruel jade, 
In the face of those 

Whose rags of poverty are oftimes made 
Thru the lust of Greed 
That prays in the sunlight and robs in the 

shade. 
Idleness, Mendicancy and Vice 

10 



in il^eto gork Citp 



All three walk forth bearing traces 

Of ill-directed mind 

On whose sodden, sullen faces 

Is writ the scroll of feebleness of the will, 

Pointing clear that in their souls 

Lofty purpose, or dreams of a higher life 

Meet no responsive thrill." 

A smile of ineffable beauty 

Passed o'er tb^ angel's face 

Like unto a mist, a tinge of sadness 

Lent an added grace, 

Sympathy for the gentle Christ whose love 

for human-kind 
Was boundless as the surging sea 
Or the path of the roving wind. 
Vain had been the quest, 
They wandered East and West, 
From North to South and felt the drouth 
As a simoon from the desert 
Ccnsum.es its victim's life. 
Strife, Grab and Greed had sown rank seed, 
The air with lust was rife; 
Saw numerous edifices, i. e., Volumes of 

Theology 
Bound-in-stone editions 
Erroneously titled "The House of God" 
Where loud Dogma's Voice 
Its laws in grev/some awe proclaimed, 
haws which left no choice, 
II 



£lu05t Of Cf)e C6ti$t 



No freedom of the Intellect or the will; 

The mocking phantoms of Don't and Must 

Sought with fear the heart to fill, 

As tho' they tried, the warmth of Love's liv- 
ing flame " 

To chill with threats of hell-fire shame. 

Morals, ethics, Reason's right to search. 

Must blind obey the mandate of a tyrant's 
sway, 

Ancient Superstition's moribund Dust, 

On thru the streets of Commerce 

The Nation's pride and joy 

Massive structures silhouetted 

Against the azure sky, 

Vast piles of iron, steel and stone 

Built, the elements to defy 

By minds, ostrich-like burying heads in sand 
as tho' 

Time's relentless hand could ne'er lay low 

Mountains of earth-craft, aye, tho' the sum- 
mits 

Were crowned by Alpine snow. 

Men, like ants, build their tiny hills 

Decked with architectural frills 

Then, rushing, crushing, In and out they go 

Burden-bearing, striving for what or why? 

"Oh!" exclaimed the Christ, 

"Why all this unseemly haste? 

12 



in Jl^eto gork €itj^ 



Why all this fruitless effort and excessive 

waste 
Of priceless energy and health 
To procure things, trifles, baubles, 
Bubbles, so-called wealihf" 

Heard the roar of Wall Street 

High Finance's battle ground 

Whose bloodless wars leave fatal scars 

Where quarter is ne'er found. 

Its conscripts come from every clime 

Whose roll is never read 

But, graves that gird the earth around 

Keep the bivouac of its dead. 

Insatiate Greed used Sarcasm's pen 

And termed, with prescience ripe, 

Its wariors "Bulls and Bears," 

And by the synonym thus declare 

''Minus hoofs and horns or teeth and claws, 

Behold! reversion of type." 

They passed the homes in the crowded lanes 
Pest-holes of pain, disease and sin, 
The sweatshop dark, saw the fiery fork 
Of the pestilential snake thrust its fangs 
Where hunger's pangs 
Had left the body bloodless, thin 
From over-work, impure air, sodden care, 
And all the chains 

^That ill-requited labor's forced to wear, 
13 



£tue0t of CJ)e Cl)tist 



Forged on the limbs of Its victims 

By mad, rapacious Gain. 

Did the Christ not know 

Tho 'tis mentioned low 

That the Church will greet 

And fulsome honors meet 

Unto a man whose wealth, 

From Labor's throes 

Was torn and wrung by stealth% 

Saw the sculptured homes 
Of Music, Art and Song 
Where lovers of ideals 
Find solace and sustainment from the throng 
Of life's besetting ills, 
Where the Soul of Beauty, radiant, divine. 
With ecstactic rapture, fills 
The devotees at her shrine. 
Smiled at the halls of Mimic Life 
Where Com.edy and Tragedy alike portray 
The ups and downs, 
The kings, the clowns, 
One meets on Earth's highway. 
Perceived the assininities, 
The vagaries of the "Affinities** 
The froth of Revel's day 
Who skip and prance 
" 'Tis on with the dance I" 
"We may not live alway!'* 
The refrain of the Mecca of Folly, 
14 



in Ji^eUj gotk €it^ 



The Festal gay Broadway. 

"Come, let us leave this way or wanton glee, 

It hurts, it wounds my heart 

To feel that 'midst Fashion's throng 

Pure thought is far apart 

From God-made souls who left a home 

Where peace and power are one 

To live on husks, to tread in dust 

And the Light of Wisdom shun. 

To barter gold for rust and mold. 

Pure life for chains and rags, 

For such rewards as Mammon gives 

Which leaves Youth rakes and hags. 

Their eyes shine with the fire of lust 

The breath, 'tis passion's fiam.e, 

The laugh is but the sound of noise, 

'Twould put glad joy to shame. 

Poor souls! Poor souls! Are those the 

shoals 
Life's pleasure boat m.ust meet? 
Ah ! better far some lonely star 
The morning sun to greet!" 

On they pressed 

Until they reached the crest 

Of Wealth's exclusiveness; 

Broad thoroughfares flanked with lordly 

dwellings 
In ^dvid contrast to the quarters 
15 



£Xue0t of C6e Cfjrigt 



Of the toiling poor. 

*'Oh!" exclaimed the Christ, "How long! 

How long ! must the weaker endure 

When will the brother-hood of man 

Be a tangible thing 

Not a phrase, round which, Preachers 

Figures of rhetoric fling 

Like a vapory mist 

Lifeless as a flower that the 

Chilling frost hath kissed. 

Look on these palatial homes, spacious, 

Quite beyond the dwellers needs, 

Altars of Moloch where the children of their 

brothers 
Are sacrificed to the demon 
Of Insatiable Greed!" 

"See, my brother," said the gentle Christ, 

Yon house across the street! 

Therein dwells the soul whom I came, 

From distant heights, to greet. 

A Bishop, learned, versed in canonical lore 

Yet, whose sermons, his listeners ofttimes 

Term, a simple, stupid bore. 

Marvelous at times 

Seems the obtuseness of men's minds 

That they will dare to seek 

With platitudinous speech and cunning 

sophistry 
To guide the human will 
i6 



in Jl^eto gotk €it^ 



And fail to see their words will never reach 

Nor change the sum-total of ill 

Which trickles down the mountain sides 

Of Civilization, like a murmuring rill 

Voicing Sorrow's wailing thrill. 

Men are much the same 

Tho changed in name 

As those with whom I walked and talked 

By the waves of the Galilean Sea." 

"Do thou return to the shores 

Of the whispering sea, 

When the day-star peeps thru the veil of 

Night 
We will wing our flight 
To the realms of light, our home, the 'Choir 

Invisible,' 
The cosmic vault of Eternity. 
Earth is fair, divinely fair. 
To those who earnestly look 
For the beauty of the pictures rare 
Found midst the leaves in Nature's book; 
Those who seek will find 
Flowers of wondrous fragrance 
In the garden of the mind. 
Then why will men sweet serenity rend 
As hungry vultures doth a harmless dove 
For works and wealth that do not tend 
To soul's advance towards God 
Whose name is Love, 
17 



€luegt of Cfte €bti&t 



Adieu I The morn's first kiss 
Our quest will end." 

Towering aloft the granite walls 

Seemed to scoff in derision at the moaning 
wind 

Which whistled shrill and clear 

In tones severe the message of the storm. 

Clouds gathered in the Western sky 

Copper-colored, brown and grey 

Forcing the rosy tints of Eve 

To vanish in dismay 

As the harbingers of the rain clashed and 
dashed. 

Then, o'er the bier of the dying day 

Swords of lightning flashed. 

Up the marble stairs climbed a form 

Seemingly oblivious of the muttering storm, 

Slender, erect as a cedar tree, 

Whose step bespoke freedom, mastery, vic- 
tory. 

Above this form of majesty, 

A tower of health and grace, 

Was a brow on which a lofty purpose shone 

And glorified his face. 

From the white-capped menial at the door, 
Whose face from practice 
A look of studied insolence wore, 
i8 



in Jl3eto gork Cit? 



A denial, in response to his enquiry, was 

received, 
"If the Master, at that hour, from duty was 

relieved?" 
Then, came shrill, sharp comments 
On a call so late at eve 

As a sort of apology for her effort to deceive. 
"Woman! cease your ill-timed speech 
And of your words have care. 
An entrance to this house I claim 
Refuse me if you dare! 
My mission with thy Master is, 
And this I will demand 
Hold your peace 
And clamor cease 
'Tis thus / HOW command.'* 

Affrighted almost unto death 
At this display of power 
The hireling meekly led the way 
Unto a fairy bower. 
Where Art and Ease and Music sweet 
Beguiled away the hour. 
Before the feast of eve took place 
In the hall of royal state. 
Reclining in a velvet chair 
Robed in silken sheen, 
A high-bred air, a low toned voice 
Bespoke the social queen. 
Her be-jeweled hand, in a soft caress, 
19 



€luc0t of Cl)e €fiti^t 



Touched the head of a tiny dog 
Who sat in state, and a bon-bon 
Complacently ate, 
On a snow-white rug 
Before the burning log. 

Something, in the stranger's face, 

Restrained her rising ire, 

She rose unnerved, resolved to meet 

And then his name enquire. 

"Pray to whom am 1 indebted for this call? 

My Lord doth seek? 

His library is just across the hall." 

With stately tread and gentle mien 

Thru blooms of flowers rare 

She led the stranger to the room 

Where sat the man of prayer 

Midst vellum-books and sculptured nooks 

All, wearing Wealth's gold brand. 

The intrusion caused an upward look 

Followed by a haughty stare, 

Pushed back his chair 

And rose le seignior grand. 

"Thy quest with me? Pray make it brief, 
Day's sands are ebbing low, 
Can I do aught of good for thee? 
Art victim of sad woe? 
If alms thou cravest, these, the servitor 
below 

20 



in Jl^eto gotb €ity 



Will deem It a pleasure to bestow." 

The stranger answered with a bow, 

And a smile of mute denial 

As if he would, forsooth 

Make of the stately prelate, further trial. 

"Nay! Kind sir; I ask no gold, 

No meat, no drink, of these 

I have scant need. 

Nor do I ask for raiment's rags 

To shield me from the breeze. 

Speech with thee on matters 

Of deep import I crave, 

A message I bring to thee 

From realms beyond the grave*' 

"Of a truth, thou'rt mad! 

Man who art thou? the hour is late 

Yet, an inward, subtle something 

Impels me to ask that 

Thou wilt thy message state. 

Much patience has one in my position 

I'o bring into requisition 

To endure ills we fain would delegate 

Lesser shoulders to bear. 

High station has its draw-backs, 

Moths infest and so consume 

The purple which we wear. 

Just a moment, until I change 

The hour at which we dine 

As at any deviation there-from 

21 



£IXnt$t of Clje Cf)ri0t 



Servants will repine." 

The conversation below 

Will clearly describe the respect 

Servants bestow on any interference 

Causing a pleasure or outing to forego. 

"The Master's mad as an ould March hare I 

This I do declare, 

Now, John, don't blink 

But, what do you think 

Of the news the cook tould me? 

We know the Master dines at seven, 

But ordhers came down 

With a snarl and a frown 

'To-night he'd ate at eleven/ 

1 tell you 'tis quare. 

And to this I will sware 

A warning hangs over this house, 

A sob an' a sigh 

I feel I could cry, 

John, keep as still as a mouse. 

Plase God if I live until sunrise to-morrow 

To six o'clock mass, I'll be off 

To see Father Ned 

And get out of me head 

This horrible night-mare of sorrow. 

I tell you John Quinn 

What I say is no sin. 

That man must he God in disguise 

The fire in his eyes like a flash 

22 



in Ji^eto gorfe €iti^ 



From the skies 

Pierced me bones and the marrow within." 

"I ask, my friend, will you kindly lend 

Your aid a quest to find, 

So many spires my vision tire 

And quite confuse the mind. 

A church I seek where Love doth speak 

In words of living fire 

Where the music of the soul's vibration 

Is attuned with seon's lyre, 

The harp that in yon cosmos vault 

Doth gleam and glow 

Its quiv'ring strings 

All joy and sorrow know; 

Deep-toned harmonies of stars and lands 

unknown 
Sweep down the cycle's path 
And touch with mystic fingers 
I'his harp called life, 
Awakes the silent soul of trees and rills 
And to the throbs of human hearts in pain 
Sing softly, 'Peace ! Be still !' 

"Be not deceived, 
I seek not a church where the 
Soul sits disconsolate, bereaved, 
Far from its Father's home 
Where power and love both dwell, 
Where waves of joy the sea of life doth 
swell 

23 



IXuesft of Clje Cbrist 



In unison with the rythmic breath, 

The voice of hfe, immortal spirit 

Freed from sensual death. 

The church I seek, 

No annals reek 

With the blood of victims slain 

By Superstition's darts. 

Where Peace serene reigns as a queen 

Within the sacred portals 

Of the pilgrim's heart. 

No dies irae dirge is moaned 

Where joy's clear anthem is entoned, 

Faith and hope feed the incense fire 

The breath of prayer has swung 

Midst isles unseen 

Thru flesh's dark screen, 

Where God and man are one. 

"One question more, 
Altho undue encroachment on your 
Time and patience I quite deplore. 
To-day's searching revealed many things 
In the present civilization quite 
Paradoxical stripped of the hue 
Which nearness of vision is wont to imbue. 
You build hospitals, asylums, orphan schools 
Which you fill 

With afflicted humanity suffering 
From various forms of ill; 
Bestow tenderness, kindness, rare medical 
skill, 

24 



in Ji3eto gork €itv 



Now, If life be so precious, 

Why send men forth to kill? 

What means these war-ships' swelling pride 

That on the breast of ocean rides? 

Doth bear glad tidings of great 

Joy and peace for which 

The meek Christ died? 

Do men v/Ith belching cannon greet 

The God whose name is Love? 

Oh! Power and Greed thou art the seed 

Of Hypocrisy hand In glove with Hate 

Masquerading as Commerce, 

Patriotism and Zeal for the Common W^eal 

That binds the Church and State.'' 

"Verily! thou art a dreamer 
A vivid painter of words 
Still, if truth be told in my heart 
Deep emotion is stirred. 
In these statements, power, wisdom. 
Culture Is readily Inferred, 
But, orthodox Religion has Its tenets, 
Its canons, Its Laws 
By which souls are governed, 
Great danger of heresy, 
Infringements on accepted truths 
Uttering such, may be incurred. 
Without authority there would be no obe- 
dience 
Either to Church or State, 

25 



£lue0t of C!)e €tn$t 



All would be chaos, 

Humanity like unto a wind-tossed straw, 

Remedial measures would come, perhaps, 

too late. 
To speak thus without authority is absurd, 
Dogma's foundation rests on the Bible 
God's revealed JFord." 

"Thou speakest of Authority, 

Whence its origin? commission forsooth! 

Can it set its seal on Vvving truth? 

Place its finger on the hidden, yet 

Manifesting, throbbing pulse of life? 

Soothe the yearnings, longings 

Self-consuming strife 

Within the inner-inner-most soul. 

The desire of the atom to merge itself 

With Being's deifical fFholef 

Nay! nay! Dogma's sway 

Is of the human mind. 

Its rigidity proves its cloy, of earth. 

Proclaims it non-existent with the 

Illimitable inflatus of the divine power 

Which breathes thru all there is, there was, 
or tcill be; 

You cannot label God, Dogma forges fet- 
ters, 

God is Truth and Truth is ever free." 

"Wordliness holds men's souls 



in ii3eUi gotk Cit? 



Chained to the wheels of fate, 

Intellectuality with spiritual power 

Does not always mate; 

The cares of me and mine 

Are like will-o'-the-wisps that shine 

O'er swamps and bogs 

And hidden logs 

Alluring the unwary footsteps of the 

Traveller into dismal mire. 

The man who would be free 

Unveiled must see 

A chain of life in which 

Each soul is but a link 

Interwoven, interlaced 

In which composite material alike is traced. 

None greater, stronger more nor less 

Than the weakest in that chain 

To bear a stress." 

Art not aware that Time's ascending stair 

Leads to heights and depths 

Beyond the red sun's glare? 

Ihat countless millions of solar systems 

Pulsing with life were flung 

Afar into space 

Their orbits to trace 

Before the music of this 

Verdant earth was sung? 

Will Dogma claim that conscious man 

Is but a span 

27 



£lue0t of Cf)e €btin 



Of life from a cradle 

To a tomb ? 

This master-piece of soul and will 

From Thought's prolifiic womb?" 

''Science is still in swaddling clothes, 

Its feet has not yet trod 

The labyrinth of Nature's Church 

The only road to God; 

Midst learned chaos of pros and cons 

On one point all agree, 

The source of life is still unknown 

In bird, in man, in tree. 

To children's eyes the pictures look 

Far greater than the book 

So lost in beauty's color-schemes ^ j^ 
No reading lines they'll brook, 
Great truths are forcedto_Jis_iuiiie5.d, un- 
sought,- ^ "'- 

Tho' writ in gold 

Dug from Wisdom's endless mines 

Thru cycles's toil untold." 

"What manner of speech is this? 
Who art thou that questions thus? 
Does no fear of Dogma's frown 
Cause thee to desist from this 
Unholy flux of words questioning 
Into the affairs of church and state? 
Illusions of some low-born mendicant 
28 



in Jl^eto gctk Cit? 



Whose mental calibre fails to rate 

The value of the intellectual few 

Whose efforts, with tables of beneficence, 

The ways of life bestrew, 

At which, I ween, thyself 

Have oftimes sate. 

Perilous, indeed, and great the need 

Of stern repression 

If authority and awe 

Are found with flaw 

And the ice of indifference, 

Formed by men's reason, 

From their hearts 

Has ceased to thaw." 

*'Pardon, one word, Reason's prerogative 
To search, to find 

Truth — pure from the fountain-head 
The Universal Mind, 
To test the laws, to find the flawr 
If any, in intellectual bread, 
Wouldst stultify the soul 
With a phantom of dread? 
Wouldst nullify and dare to set at naught 
Laws thru which worlds are framed 
By God in Nature wroug'it 
In her Church of Silence? 
Laws with dominant justice fraught 
From whose transgression 
None has bought reprieve 
29 



£lue0t of Clje Cfirist 



Tho' unto blood they grieve 

Effect ivill follow cause, 

From atom's cell to radiant star 

The Universal Soul of God 

Dwells not afar. 

Reason, Science, Freedom of the fVill 

Before the portals of this church 

May safely pause 

Superstition does not recognize such laws." 

"Aye, when Reason's hour of triumph comes 
And the Inner-self reveals 
All Dogma's canting lore and laws 
Its inherent power repeals. 
Who'll dare to bind with chains 
The man who wears the victor's wreath 
And leans on Wisdom's staff? 
Who'll dare to offer for the bread of life 
Unwholesome, worthless chaff 
By your works you're known 
And the seed you've sown 
By the cause is scattered wide, 
Its effect is pride 
And your lives are tied 
As slaves to Wealth's mad greed. 
Ye barter self for power and pelf 
And Wisdom's Truths deride, 
As ye sow, ye reap 
The' ye slumber deep 
»Th.e law is ne'er defied." 
30 



in 5!5cto gotk €itv 



The laws of life demand unerring justice 

From which is no reprisal, 

Hence the constant strife 

Which is always rife 

Twixt Nature's elements evolving as they 
rise 

From sea-slime atom to seraphic brain 

Or whirling worlds In skies. 

Soul in substance works its way 

In darkness towards light, 

Aeon's unknown book 

Has the record of Its fight 

Against stupendous odds 

For in the form of dual man 

^ ies ill-propelling, demon seed 

With the attributes of God. 

Each atvom soul stands alone 

A world within a world 

His body, a fortress Is, and banners are un- 
furled 

Telling the kind of soldiery 

Within its gates. 

The aims, the loves, the hates, 

For, "as a man thinketh in his heart so 
is he." 

"Wouldst speak with genuine authority, 
The Voice of living Truth? 
Then preach God is here, is there 
31 



jCtuegt of Cf)e Ci)ti0t 



Is everywhere 

In all, His Soul, is sun, 

That heaven's kingdom is within each breast 

An entrance may be won 

By thought so pure 

That it must allure 

All good from the cosmic store. 

That now is all the time there is 

Eternal evermore ; 

For time is but the pregnant wind that blows 

Outside the cycle's door. 

Throw open wide your churches 

And preach the power of thought. 

Your sermons will out-rival 

The greatest marvels wrought. 

Teach thy listeners to enter Nature's Church 

And worship with the flowers, 

Baptized in dew, within a leafy pew, 

God hears the faintest prayer. 

Nature needs no spectre to prove her rights 

divine 
No night is there 'tis noon-day's glare 
Her laws and God are one." 

Join the heroic souls 
The watchmen of the night 
Found on the turrets of the breast-works 
Midst the roaring of truth's fight; 
Not the craven camp-followers 
Well prepared for flight. 
32 



in J^eto gork €itv 



Alas! too often are the ministers of the 

church 
Clad in Hvery that wealth doth wear 
To gain such trappings of gilt and glare, 
Much sophistry doth sow 
And life's high deeds forswear. 
Full well they know 
That pomp and show 

Illusion's veil doth throw o'er minds of men 
That do not ken 

The height, the depth, the length 
Of the cycles of the Universe 
Thru which time's river flows 
Ever onward to circles wide 
Sweeping life's splendors, jovs and woes 
Along its resistless tide. 

"Cease this jargon of 'original sin,' 

Sin's but the shadow of the all-prevading 

goody 
As from the slime, the filth, the loam 
Creeps forth the lily's hood 
Gloom no more its home; 
Neath the mottled green 
The white is seen, 
'Twill soon burst forth in bliss 
Sublime in faith and courage rare, 
Behold! its form surpassing fair 
It breathes its sweetness 
In the Spring-time's air. 
2Z 



£Xuc0t of Cl)e C!)ti0t 



Tell sad hearts that disease is of 

Sin the fruit, the vent 

Of forces spent with ill intent, 

A synonymn of ill-directed thought 

By which the fruit is brought 

To light in the body's ground 

Thru which the current strays. 

Good or ill, choose as we will 

Such harvest will we raise. 

For, as our thought comrjiands 

And then demands from Will conception, 

Such will be the form we name, 

Be it noble, pure, or shame." 

Nature's Church means Universal Love, 
It hath no scrolls, no creed, 
'Tis one with Spirit's inbreathing life 
Within the lowest seed 
Lives the soul triumphant o'er 
Want, environment, death, all. 
Love knows no great, no small. 
The Christ principle, awaiting development 
Which means union of the soul with God, 
Dwells in the life of the crawling worm, 
Whose home is neath the sod; 
Involved, evolved, hidden, shown 
By which God is known 
To be in His Universe 
Love doth bless, not curse. 
Ye seek for God without, 
34 



in il3eU) gotk Citp 



Accept the manifestation, the shadow In the 

glass 
Forgetting that effect is only progeny of the 

cause 
The simple fulfillment of Nature's laws. 
Ye refuse the knowledge of the Fast Within 
Whose threshold can ne'er be crossed 
By cynical, wavering Doubt. 
Ye measure God by days and years 
By human passions, hopes and fears 
By wealth and woe, and dare bestow 
These wretched attributes on beneficent 

Force 
Pulsing thru Nature, eternity, Its course." 

Narrow Indeed and warped the creed 

That limits Omnipotence's power 

To saving toilers of this earth, 

A mere atom in the infinite shower 

Of worlds that come and go 

Forced by Love's throes. 

Creation, ever in travail, longing 

As a mother yearns to gaze 

On the lineaments of her conception. 

Mockery! this talk of saving souls. 

Can God lose himself, either whole or part?! 

Human Souls are the progeny of God, 

Individualized Units in the 

Unknowable divine Perception 

Therefore, are neither 

35 



£lum of Clje Ci)n0t 



Lost, nor saved, old nor young, 
Nor by Dogma's intellectual pelf 
Bought nor sold." 

*'Who art thou, strange visitant 

That dares dispute with me? 

Of High-Church fame, a Bishop's name 

Doth mark the high degree, 

Nor lives a king, nor prince, nor power 

That on my consecrated head 

Rare honors will not shower, 

And deem me of the faith of Christ 

The root, the branch, the flower." 

He paused, awe-struck as the stranger rose. 

A stern look on his face; 

'What, If / say to thee 

That in thy life, 

Be It thine own disgrace 

Of the lowly Christ's love for man,; 

Not one line do I trace. 

Mad prelate in thy lust of life, 

Thy lordly church and wife. 

Thou ne'er will open Love's pure gate 

With pompous power and strife." 

"Thou speakest of the Faith of Christ, 

Who made the demons flee, 

Who healed the sick 

And over death sang resurgam! Victory! 

Are these the fruits 

Z6 



in r^etu ^ork Citp 



Of thy ministerial power? 
Doth from thy hands 
Flow the healing shower? 
If so, then 'tis true, thou art 
A root, a branch, a flower, 
But, if these gifts from thee do not emanate, 
In vain your creeds, 

The power of the Christ knows no limita- 
tions 
His words proved true in deeds, 
'I and the Father are one,' 
The Spirit, Soul and life of the Christ 
Proclaim Love's manifesting, 
The Father pro-creating in the Son. 

"Christ's Church had for a roof, 
The dome of the star-gemmed sky. 
For a bell. 

The murmurs of a brook 
That thru the vale sang well; 
For the organ chant 
At which pelf plays, 
The Music of the Wind 
Which softly strays 

From cosmic heights, and in its balmy breath 
Brings a message to mankind. 
Small need has soul whose feet are led 
By the torch of the Flame of Love. 
Of bells and chants 
To guide to the heights above 
27 



£\ue0t of Cf)e C6ri0t 



The vales of dross 

That doth engross 

The minds of men with petty, selfish views. 

Who shall measure God 

With pounds or pence, 

Or tell us whence 

Cometh the plastic force in the radiant hues 

Of pre-existing beauty, 

Evolving from the formless to the form 

That doth, with wordless loveliness, 

The petals of a flower adorn?" 

"The Church of Christ 
Had no chancel rail, no cushioned pew, 
He preached in God's own wold 
Truths (not to a selected few)^ 
In words of living gold. 
The Sermon on the Mount 
Few lines will count 
The Message long and wide 
That tells in tones unmistakable 
The way of life 
That will decide 
If, in deed and truth 
fpe love our fellow-man. 
To Flis church came the good, the ill, 
The lowly poor, the leper thin. 
The blind, the deaf, the lame. 
The scarlet woman in her self-accusing 
shame ; 

38 



in H^eto gork Citp 



Nor did He seek to win 

With words of honeyed sweetness, 

The pharisee from his sin 

Of greed, of pelf, of power, 

That in his zeal to further weal 

He would with gold endower 

A lofty hall, so-called a church 

In which he comes to pray 

In accents loud and manner proud 

7 love my God, and God loves ME' 

And yet the crowd, in sorrow bowed 

He hath no eyes to see." 

"Avaunt! this idle talk of 
Atonement found thru Christ, 
At-one-ment is the vital, potent word 
By which redeeming power is stirred; 
As if the blood of Christ 
Could stop the flow of free-will, 
The sap in life's gigantic tree. 
Man, unto himself, a savior is. 
Himself, alone can free, 
His life doth heaven or hell contain, 
Tabor or Calvary. 
His thought doth hind 
Or doth unwind 

The chains his will hath wrought. 
Cease this senseless rant 
This puerile cant, 

T'm saved by the blood of the Iamb!' 
39 



£luc0t of C6e Cl)n'0t 



Blood can neither save nor damn." 

"Man 1 thou blasphemeth ! Hold thy peace I 

Thou temptest God! 

Dost dare impugn established truth 

Nor fear Chastisement's rod? 

"Hast thou, in uttering such 

Strange, fantastic doctrine, 

[At which, I pause for breath, 

Hast thou, again, I ask mad visitant 

Hast thou no fear of death?" 

Sweet was the voice as a sea-wave's moan, 

Filled with music breathing tender melody, 

Yet, its modulation was threnetic, 

A throbbing, subtle, low undertone 

Voicing a song prophetic 

Of a coming sorrow 

Unto that household that ere 

The dawning of the morrow 

Would shroud itself in gloom. 

Grieving for a life vanished. 

Hidden, in Eternity's womb 

Where preparatory for a new birth 

Higher, holier, by past experience better 

equipped 
New duties to assume. 
"Friend, Shrouds and graves 
Do not fetter the freedom of the soul, 
Dust says not to spirit 
40 



in H^eto J^otk €it^ 



*/ am the end and goal.' 

"There is no death, 'Tis the soul emerging 

From an outgrown shell, 

'Tis a veil of change 

That doth arrange 

Into more perfect copy the story 

Each individual life must tell 

Of sea-slime fused into wondrous pearl, 

Of tints surpassing fair, 

Of weary wandering to and fro 

To find the path that leads 

To the oasis of peace that 

Springs from Joy's pure well. 

Deeds are the mile-stones of life 

Hewn from Thought's granite quarry, 

Some hew chips, pebbles, anon a block 

Worthy admittance to the mason's stock, 

With which more stately temples 

Of the soul arise 

To rear their turrets in eternal skies." 

"There is a flower that bloometh 

In the garden of the soul, 

Its bulb contains the Spirit 

The aeons doth unfold, 

'Tis watered by the dew of holy tears 

From the eyes of loving sympathy. 

Nurtured by the loam 

Of fruitful, well-spent years; 

41 



jClueist of Cbe Cfttist 

Lifts Its gorgeous beauty 
In the shadows of Eartn s night, 
Breathes its rarest fragrance 
In the morn of pure dehght. 
Its name? Immortahty, 
Deathless, quenchless light 
Guides the unfurlment of its petals 
Despite the frosts, the blight. 
Unto a radiant, perfect flower, 
Eternal bloom its rightJ^ 

As the tender voice vibrated ^ 
Like a harp in the moaning wind, 
A tone of wondrous music 
Pierced the churchman's troubled mmd; 
A shadowy, subtle essence 
Pervaded the gorgeous room. 
The prelate started to his xeet, 
He felt the message from the tomb. 
Entranced, he gazed at the m.ystic hght^ 
Encircling the stranger's brow, 
"In the name of God I now demand 
Tell me, who art thouf 
Divine, majestic rose the form 
With awe-inspiring grace. 
Like snow transfused his garments, 
Rare perfume left its trace. 
A smile, seraphic in Its splendor 
Illumined the God-like face 
A tone, soul-thrilling in its power 
43 



In i^eto gork Cftp 



Whispered, "Peace! Be not afraid! 

For such as thou, I long and oft have prayed 

/ am the Christ.' 



(finis.) 



« 



THE DREAM OF THE 
RED ROSE. 



£Xue0t of Cf)e CScist 



THE DREAM OE (THE RED ROSE. 

When the dewdrops of June-time 

Were glistening at morn 

And the lark in the blue vault 

Sang clear, 

A butter-fly, artless, so tender and lorn 

Kissed the brow of a beauteous red rose; 

Then, fluttered appalled 

As if it recalled 

Sad memories of life in Its past 

Of days so perfect in love's radiant hall 

Too fragrant, too joyous 

To last. 

"Thy marvelous incense flung on the breeze 
Attracted m.y tired wings to thee, 
A wanderer am I 
And fain would I lie 
'Neath the shades of the leaves 
On thy tree. 

I'm far from my home o'er the billowy deep 
Phantoms of fear round 
My pathway doth creep, 
Visions of danger I see in my sleepy 
47 



Ctuest of Cfie C6ri0t 



Pardon me, Rose, 
If I weep." 

The canker of sorrow belongs not to thee 

In thy presence all wailing should hush 

Its sad tones discordant and weak 

For, the sign-manual 

Of Love's in thy blush. 

Pray, here let me rest 

The balm from thy breast 

Will, Sorrow's thorn, 

Draw from my heart 

ril tarry awhile 

Thy song will beguile 

The hours until sunlight departs." 

When Earth's shades are creeping, 

And moonbeams are keeping 

A tryst with pale Venus, Love's evening 

star, 
When the world, tired is sleeping 
And bright stars are peeping 
Thru veils of grey mist 
On yon mountain afar 
I'll bid thee farewell 
To search for the dell 
Fond Hope hath whispered FIl find sweet 

repose, 
Life's but a journey whose riddle we seek 
Midst trials and throes, 
48 



in jQetu |?otk Citi? 



'Tls Love holds the secret 
And Love only knows." 

"Tho' pregnant with sorrow 

May be time's wraith of to-morrow 

A rainbow of joy 

Fills my lone heart with bliss, 

Its memory I'll cherish 

Tho' all else shall perish 

'Tis the thought of the Rose, 

My Earth-love's first kiss. 

A talisman witching, 

A whole life enriching 

With sweetness, the purest 

That life holds in store 

As Love is the essence, the union, the blend-' 

ing 
In all we term being 
For time evennore." 

"Oh! stay with me the red Rose cried 
On darkened clouds the storm-king rides, 
I'll share with thee my perfume rare 
And shield thee from the fowler's snare. 
No lovelier spot on Earth thou'lt find, 
Sweet music, brings the soft south wind, 
Dost see yon tall, pure lilly bend 
Her stately head to greet thee friend?" 

"Nay! nay! to me Love's vision 
49 



£lue0t of Cbe C6ri0t 



Was only given 

To gain the goal for which I've striven 

Midst want and woe 

And still I go 

In quest; 

Nor, until the prize is won, 

I dare not rest; 

A life of ease bespeaks not high endeavor 

In search of Truth that lives forever. 

Pray, urge me not. 

Nor will I disobey 

The call of Duty, it leads upward! onward! 

To the Radiant W ay." 

"Dost know the meaning of thy life? 

This constant warring in stress and strife? 

Tho' thy peerless form 

With rare loveliness be graced, 

Look! at thy stem whose upward path is 

traced 
With blight and thorns, and marks of many 

stings. 
The rude assaults of vicious Insects' wings 
So, must we part 

Tho', with sympathy, beats thy tender heart, 
Farewell ! dear Rose, I thank thee 
For thy loving trust in me." 

Night's shades came creeping o'er the hill 
The rythmic song of the wind was still, 
50 



in ii^eUi gork €it^ 



No tone of harshness 
Rasped the vibrant air 

All Nature's notes voiced an evening prayer. 
Midst dreaming trees sang a whip-poor-will 
In accents pure his mournful thrill, 
Sweet incense rose from the verdant sod 
Fragrant balm from, the store-house 
Wrought by God. 

The smile of Twilight faded to the serious 

night 
And calm Earth waited on the stars for light 
That came silver-hued and tender 
From cosmic heights, 
Messengers of love to make our dreams 

more bright. 
Sad must be the human heart 
If pulsations of the infinite throb 
Of Nature's life-tones are as things apart, 
Where Love dwells not 
A sigh becomes a sob. 

*T love you," said the Lily 

As she gazed upon the Rose, 

*'Thou art the fairest flower 

That in our garden grows. 

Beside thy blushing splendor 

Adorned with dew-drop clear, 

Like a veil of the snow-clad mountain-mist 

My lustre doth appear. 

51 



iiClue^t of C{)e Cljri^t 



Thou'rt sad, sweet friend, 

I miss the warmth and glow 

Of the wondrous, soothing fragrance 

At night, thou'rt wont to throw 

Like waves of precious Incense, 

A source of pure dehght; 

Ah ! Rose, dear Rose, do tell me why, 

What makes thee sad to-night?" 

"Sweet thanks, thou tender flowret 

Like sheen of moon-light ray, 

Thy tones, too, are melody 

When at the close of day 

With accents sweet yon star you greet 

To keep a tryst alway, 

His love illumes your petals 

Your beauty holds full sway. 

'Tis true, to-night, Lm overcome 

As when the blinding rain 

Bows low my head with weariness 

And tho' I strive in vain 

Against this o'erwhel'ming sense of loss, 

Nor can I yet explain 

Why? I feel as tho' a canker-worm 

Had robbed me of my gloss." 

Night cast her veil o'er a care-weary world, 
And banners of darkness were softly un- 
furled, 

52 



in Jl^eU) gorfe Ci'tp 



The flowers of the garden seemed wrapped 

in calm sleep, 
Vigils of love, star-sentinels keep. 
The wind crooned an anthem, the dew shed 

a tear 
A benison, on the brow loved so dear; 
Low drooped the head of the exquisite Rose 
Exhaling her perfume, as she goes, mist- 

kissed and fragrant 
To the realm of repose. 

As threads of film, life's woof 

Unfolds midst her dreams, 

A garment of flesh the soul-atom screens 

A breath! a flash! 

Blood's warm currents dash 

Thru arterial courses 

Awake in life its latent forces. 

Radiantly beautiful, revelling in youth, 

Came the mystical form 

In unspeakable grace, 

Golden-haired, ruby-lipped, blue eyes of 

truth 
Shone from their depths 
In the shell-tinted face. 

The morning of life 
Seemed in Spring's holy time 
When Nature is breathing 
Love's pregnant rhyme, 

53 



^mist of Clje C6ti0t 



"Resurgam ! resurgam I" the seedlings doth 

hear, 
Death's Ice King is conquered, 
Arise! from the bier! 
Come forth in the sun-light 
There's nothing to fear! 
The song-birds are singing 
A paeon of cheer, 

The wind chants a lullaby to fill with delight 
The first-born of Spring 
From the womb of Earth's night." 

Enraptured she wandered, 

Her soul filled with bliss, 

Alone thru the garden where came Love's 

first kiss. 
"Who am If Whence came I? Whither 

I gof 
'Tis very perplexing, I'll ask my sweet 

mother, 
'Tis certain she'll know. 
The fullest of Earth's gifts 
I'm happy! so happy! life's passing sweet 
Are thrown at my feet, 
Still, I wonder, struggle, striving to know 
Whence came I hither? JFhither I gof 

Beneath a dome of splendor 
Where Fame and Beauty trod 
On tessellated marble, 
54 



Cn Jf^eto gotk Citp 



Here, wealth was held as God. 

Art and Song their voices blended 

And sang a storied rune, 

Culture held the baton, each chord must clear 

attune 
With harmonic beauty in the symphony of 

the home 
Where dwelt the wife and daughter 
Of the noblest man in Rome. 

Perfumed oils shed lustre 

From lamps of silver gleam, 

Rare exotics lent their beauty 

To grace the sumptuous scene 

Where Wealth and Fashion came to gree^ 

The winsome maid, who now must meet 

The duties of high station. 

As her father's only child. 

The guests had all departed, 

Lights were burning low, 

Thru an open window, faint sang a zephyr, 

as tho' 
It felt Itself intruding 
Within a holy place; 
For here, two souls communion held 
Clasped in fond embrace. 
Low breathed the tones in accents mild, 
Perchance, an angel hov'ring near 
The sweet words over-heard, 

55 



Mimt o! C6e CJtfst 



Peaceful heart-throbs two In one, 
A mother and her child. 

"Oh! mother mine, canst thou divine 

Why things are thus and so? 

This morn at dawn as I wandered forth 

To see the sunrise's glow, 

I saw a form stretched 'neath a tree 

Whose back bent like a bow, 

'Tis true his face beautiful, 

Gentle, clear and mild. 

Did God permit his form to grow 

Gnarled as a tree 

In the forest wild?" 

"And yester-morn when the sun was red. 
You know where the brooklet sings, 
I found a tiny yellow bird, dead, 
A shot had pierced its wing. 
Did God allow this cruel act? 
If so, please tell me so, 
Henceforth, I will not go to church, 
I love not God, ah! no." 

"My child! my child! why question thus? 

'Tis quite beyond my ken, 

The ways of God mysterious, are not the 

ways of men. 
We must accept with silent faith 
Things we do not understand, 
56 



in ii^etti gorfe Cftp 



Nor question why? 'tis so, 

In simple reverence my knee doth bend, 

I do not seek to know." 

Ah! mother dear, you do not hear a voice 

That sings within my breast 

A song of pure delight, 

As tho' a bird had built a nest therein. 

And warbled day and night. 

The're times it sings as if In pain 

A minor, sad refrain, 

Then, Sorrow draws me with its thrill 

I wonder why it came. 

I long to fly in the azure sky 

Whence come the mist and rain 

I want to die, 

Mother, please do not cry, 

ril come to you again. 

"Do not the flowers return again 

Tho lost beneath the snow? 

The leaves are with the trees once more 

When the wind doth blow 

A balmy gale instead of Winter's roar. 

I've watched the swallows' returning flight 

Encircling yonder spire 

When the sun's red rays 

Shed a brilliant light 

Till its top resembled fire. 



57 



!^nm of Cbe Cbtfst 



"How oft, how oft, I've heard thee say 
Ere my eye-lids drooped in sleep, 
When near my little cot you knelt 
To teach me how to pray. 
'Oh 1 God do Thou, my child's soul keep 
Safe from sin, and harm and woe, 
Throw open wide the pearly gates 
When deep night shadows throw, 
Send an angel from the realms of light 
To guard her during sleep.' 

"Nay, sweetest mother, weep not so, 

Thy heart I would not grieve 

Much as I long to this God 

In whom you so believe. 

All things, you say, belong to Him 

In Heaven, on Earth, below, 

I cannot lose myself in heaven 

If I spend a while there-in; 

Then I'll return when the snow-drops bloom 

I'll come at night 

When the stars' pale light 

Come peeping in this room." 

O'er the mother's heart 
Sad Grief hung Sorrow's pall 
Its sword had pierced her soul, 
Intuition's power made her read 
The "writing on the wall." 
"Oh! God of love! delay the hour, 
58 



in jBcUj gorfe Citp 



Take not my child from me ! 

/ cannot, dare not, will not say 

I give her back to Thee. 

The stars each night come with their light 

The wind sings o'er the lea, 

But the grave's dark gate 

Will ne'er ope its grate 

And my child return to me." 

Autumn with a witching grace 

Had turned the leaves to gold 

Of the brave old yews 

Whose brilliant hues 

Defied November's cold. 

Etchings of the leaf-stripped trees 

Stood forth in bold relief, 

Sternly gazing thru a smoky veil 

At the sighing wind, as if to say, 

"Thou! art the thief!" 

The Wind scoffed back, "regret I shook your 

leaves? 
Behold! their use, a garment for their 

mother. 
Wise old Earth who gave you birth, 
Sorrow, 'Tis best to smother." 

One morn in chill November 
Ere the mist had left the sky. 
Was heard a tone of anguish, 
A soul-wrung mother's cry, 
59 



£luei5t of Ci)e Cl)ri0t 



The winsome maid, so pure and sweet, 

Who seemed clear sunshine's throb, 

Her soul had fled its temple, 

Had gone in quest of God. 

So, too, the red Rose vanished 

In the gray, cold morning's light, 

Its stem lay bare 

Thru the fragrant air 

The petals winged their flight. 



60 



COSMIC CORALS 



£lue0t of Cf)C €htM 



COSMIC CORALS. 
THE HOME OF IDEALS. 

Beyond the Heights where the moon-beams 

gleam 
Lies a Valley, one sees in dreams 
Shrouded and veiled in mists of grey, 
The Home of Ideals where we go to pray. 
Within the womb of Thought unuttered 
Ideals rest in lambent flame 
To flash their splendor in mind's creation 
In answer to the tone we name. 
When thoughts are hushed and the Silence 

broods 
O'er the shadowed realm of our mystic 

moods. 
Sylph-like forms of living fire 
Responsive come at the soul's desire 
Radiant and pure with mien divine 
Come forth these wraiths of the mystic 

shrine 
Clear, with high resolve and power, 
They speak within this sacred bower. 



^2 



£Xue0t of Cfje Cl)ri0t 



THE CALL OF THE WIND. 

Oh! the witching spell 

From the woodland dell 

'Tis a call to you and me to fly away, 

This blithesome day, 

To where the Wind doth swell. 

No grander anthem's heard by men 

In choir, in church, in hall, 

As when the waves of the wandering wind 

In rythmic music falls 

On the sun-kissed tops of the forest trees 

And awakes the slumb'ring lyre 

To voice a song of victory 

O'er storms of liquid fire. 

Come! let us go, far from us throw 

The cares of thine and mine, 

And follow the wind with heart-beats slow 

Pure peace and joy to find. 

The scent of the woods in the Spring-time 

air 
Doth hold a God-like dower, 
The quest midst fragrant herbs and pines 
Drives ill-health from his lair. 
Then follow the Wind thru sun and shower, 
Trustingly, lovingly, if thou wouldst know 
Dear Nature's healing power. 



in n^eto gork Citp 



IN QUEST OF THE FAIRIES. 

Where wandering winds wail forth 

Their weirdest music, 

Where fragrant pines and wild flowers 

Love to dwell, 

Where sing the birds in love's abandon, 

There — Elfs of light pure Wisdom's 

Truths doth tell. 

In vain you'll strive to find the fairies 

Where noise and clamor, 

Or greed's cold voices sing, 

No rapture dwells where sordid care pre- 

sideth, 
So elfs of joy and peace take wings 
To haunts where perfect Love abideth. 
Where Nature's voice 
One's inmost soul may thrill, 
Where God and man 
Are ne'er divideth 
And harmonic bliss the soul with rapture 

fills. 
The fairies are found in the rain-drops, 
In the tints of the sunshine's gold, 
They're found in the snow-drop's sparkle 
When the Wind blows shrill and cold; 
In the mist when the day is creeping 
Its way thru the shadows of night, 
Happy sprites, a vigil are keeping. 
To dance in Aurora's light 
65 



£lue0t of Clje C6ri0t 



THE PLEA OF THE SOUL. 

"Hear my voice, oh! gentle pilgrim, 

It will guide thee safe alway, 
Low it whispers in thy temple, 

Heed its tones, nor say it nay." 
Softer than a zephyr's whisper 

Falls the mystic voice so dear, 
Breathes its meed of wisdom perfect 

Serene, profound, surpassing clear. 

Upward! onward! still achieving 

Climb to heights as yet unknown. 
Earth's low vales, illusion leaving 

Ascend! ascend! dost hear the tone 
Of mighty music in one great soul-throb 

Fraught with power from Love's pure 
heart; 
Thy soul's harmony is the key-note. 

Thy life, in this is whole and part. 

Thru all Nature runs the gamut 

Of life in endless melody, 
As murmuring wavelets in the rythm 

Of time's swift ebb to eternity. 
Then, heed thy soul's sweet, tender pleading, 

Soft and low as moon-light ray, 
Trust the voice, it faileth never, 

'Twiil guide thee on the Upward JVay. 

66 



in jOcUj gork Citp 



A PRAYER. 

Music divine! vibrate in me 

Awake a tone of ecstacy, 

Life exultant, fearless calm, 

An aid to win the victor's palm. 

Let the music of my soul be heard 

Above the din and clamor 

Of life's tempestuous way; 

Attune the chords of joy and woe 

Chromatic harmony to sway 

The symphony of being. 

Let discord blend with rythmic power 

In the chime of bells that toll 

For passing hours buried for aye 

Li the past's deep grave. 

Intone no psalm of vain regret 

O'er mounds bedewed as yet 

With sorrow's corrosive tears. 

Chant t^'^ dominant resurgam! 

To hail the unknown years, 

Shrouded in Cimmerian gloom, 

Whose advancing footsteps bring tidings 

Of an open, waiting tomb. 



ey 



^nm of Cf)e Cftrist 



THE DUAL TONE. 

Throw open wide the casement 

As the hght of day grows dim, 

View the moon-Ht heavens, 

Invite the star-rays in. 

Oh! wondrous music of the spheres 

Yon pale star-beam has heard, 

Thou, too, wouldst hear the mystic tone? 

Then, speak the magic word. 

Thou'lt feel the air grow vibrant 

Sweet peace will o'er the steal, 

Thy life requires an unison 

Its soul-power to reveal. 

Dost hear the witching music 

Of the Wind thru yon green tree? 

What message doth the South Wind bring 

From far across the sea? 

His voice hath wondrous sweetness 

Singing o'er the lea. 

Ah! Wind breathe soon the Message, 

A soul responds to thee. 

The moon-beam woos the dew-drop, 
Which glistens from delight, 
The Lily shares her fragrance 
With the shadows of the night. 
A dual tone awaits thee 
None other life may hear, 
68 



in laeto J^orlt €itv 



Then hearken in the Silence 

The Tone, perchance is near. 

Unchain the iron fetters 

Forged by the cares of life, 

Drive from thy breast with courage-fire 

The wraiths of greed and strife. 

Be free ! be still ! let the Eternal Will, 

The primal cause of all pure power, 

Propel thy bark thru shoals and rocks, 

Thru shadows of Earth's hour. 

Call Joy to spring as a fountain clear 

Within the holy place, 

Its tones of heaven-born ecstacy 

With melody will grace 

The unison of thy soul with Love, 

The Tone thou fain would'st woo, 

Give all for Love, for Love is all 

Thou'rt One with God and, God is you. 



53 



mmt of C6e Clbrist 



THE MARRIAGE OF JOY. 

"Jump Into my sled, 

I'm going to be wed 

To a maid of high degree, 

And a jolly old ride 

'Ere you'll meet my bride 

Thru the snow you'll have with me. 

A maid most dear 

With eyes blue, clear, 

Soft hair like burnished gold. 

Had bid me come to share her home 

And aid sweet Hfe unfold.' 

"For years, her life was racked from pain, 
All Earth seemed filled with dread. 
No voice of song, save a sad refrain 
Of mourning for her dead 
Awaked the music, the soul's birth-right, 
In that heart of Sorrow's blight, 
Unti^ a flash of celestial light 
Pierced the shadows o'er her head. 

"One morn In early Autumn's prime 
She wandered o'er the plain, 
The trees and sky, and hill and dale 
With beauty were aflame. 
She heard the Wind, God's breath In life 
Mad rushing thru the trees. 
And from the gnarled, stately oaks 
The tiny acorns seize. 
70 



in iSeU) gotk €it^ 



"With storm-clad hands he dashed them 

down 
To Earth, to find a grave, 
Then tore the leaves of sunlit gold 
O'er which the artists rave. 
Mad destruction was abroad 
None dared to say him nay, 
The howling Wind shrieked 
With wild delight 
[As tho' he were at play. 

Like some weird spell the torrents fell, 
And black the tempest came, 
The thunder pealed, the leaden sky 
Was pierced by lightning's flame. 
' Appalled she stood, nor knew not where 
To find a safe retreat 
When, as she paused, a ringing tone 
Was heard quite near her feet. 

"A spray of fern of matchless grace, 

A dream of fronded sheaf 

The offspring of Earth's choicest loam 

And the lowly wind-tossed leaf. 

On this, a tiny cricket sang with glee 

His song of tuneful mirth, 

As if to say, 'the skies are grey, 

To the storm, I owe my birth.' 

" *Oh, God!' she cried, 'Do Thou open wide 
71 



€lue0t of Cf)e Christ 



The windows of my soul, 

Probe deep the pride 

That has long defied 

The reading of life's scroll. 

Should not the storm come unto me 

As well as tree or flower? 

Is man by Nature set apart 

To bask in sunshine's hour?' 

"Her prayer was heard 

As cry of bird 

Falls not on Love's closed ear, 

The light shone bright 

Where once was night 

In the heart of this maid so dear. 

Did we but know 

That 'neath the snow 

That seems the flowret's grave, 

A loving warmth from mother Earth 

The way to life doth pave. 

"Above the love that emanates 

From Passion's wild desire, 

Beyond pale Grief's corrosive rust 

Burns bright the cleansing fire 

Of Love eternal, hence, naught can mar 

The radiant splendor 

Of our Earthly Star 

Save, as we strive to live, from Love afar.'* 



72 



itt il5eUj gork Cftp 



THE VOICE OF SONG. 

'Tis asked whence comes the power of song? 

To voice the rythm in the trembling leaf, 

To hear glad tidings in a tone of grief 

And glean pure rapture, attuned and strong 

From myriad voices midst 

Life's discordant throng. 

Would'st know? Here-in lies Time's secret 

Writ on life's parchment, 

Eternity's pliant scroll. 

Listen for the Inner-breath, thy Soul, 

The tone, the music of the spheres 

That count not life in days nor years. 

The voice of song's in bird and flower, 

In dust, in darkness, in sunshine's hour, 

In mist, in rain, in star-light's gleam, 

In Silence's home where we go to dream. 

Thus all is song and joy and power 

Nor breathes a life without this power. 



73 



£:xuest of Cfje Clbri0t 



INSPIRATION. 

Be thou an orb ! 

A radiant star travelling thru time to realms 

afar. 
All past, present, future absorb 
Let no eclipse of Doubt thy splendor mar. 
What matters storms and strife or cleansing 

pain, 
Thy light will pierce thru mist and rain; 
Empyrean heights thy dazzling sphere, 
Thru asons's skies. 
No smirching fear 

Should trail its slime atwarth thy royal path 
Elliptical tho' it be, 

And the rays of thy hidden solar sun, at times, 
Do not converge towards thee. 
Inspiration comes at the call of Aspiration, 
'Tis wholly thine to choose ; 
Thy will, the creative power to enthuse, 
To guide, perchance a pilgrim soul 
Thru the labyrinthan darkness of Sorrow's 

trying hour. 
Oh! human star, take Love for thy guidance 
To heights unknown thru human ken, 
Faith, Trust, Hope, thy satellites 
Illumining, cheering thy fellow men ! 



74 



in il3eto l^ork Cit? 



SPINNING THE COSMIC ROBE. 

Sweet the joy of living, rejoice ! oh ! soul, 

rejoice 
To hear within the Silence, the music of the 

Voice 
Which says, "Fulfill! fulfill the law 
Thou'rt part of Nature's plan 
From atom's cell to man's estate 
'Tis but a cosmic span." 

Spinners at the wheel of time a fabric rare 

we weave. 
If, perchance, a stitch we miss 
There is no cause to grieve. 
On! with a gladsome heart thy destiny 

achieve. 
The errors of a bygone past thy present may 

retrieve. 

Spin on ! spin on ! oh, pilgrim dear^ 

Thy fate, thine own to choose, 

Nor care thou for the maudling throng 

Weak slaves to senses's use. 

Spin ! spin on ! with zealous cheer 

The garb for the bridal night, 

Select the gems thou fain would wear 

To grace its lustre bright. 

7S 



£D.nc^t of C!)e CW^t 



Sometime, somewhere, in aeons's hall 
The voice of Love thou'lt know, 
Nor mist, nor shroud, nor earthly pall 
Athwarth thy sight a shadow throw. 
Thou'lt wear the garb thy life hath spun, Its 

beauty will enthrall 
Thy soul, thyself will stand revealed 
As bride and groom, the One in all. 



76 



in ii^eto potk €it^ 



THE CHORD OF THE CHOIR 
INVISIBLE. 

While lost In the vale of Silence 

Where the Spirit of Peace doth dwell, 
A tone, like the sigh of a zephyr 

Or a distant vesper bell, 
Came stealing o'er my senses 

Like the perfume of a rose. 
Or the fragrance of the violet blue 

In Its midnight, cool repose. 

Soft and low in the silence 

Sang the chord I loved full well, 
It surely came from the wondrous realm 

Where angels of God doth dwell. 
Such music, power and rapture 

Unknown to human ken, 
My soul was filled with glory 

A message to fellow men. 

Like dew to the thirsty flowret, 

Or mist to the arid plain. 
Came the Chord of the mystic music 

In the Silence's sweet domain. 
A calm stole o'er my spirit. 

It cast aside all pain. 
The memory of the heavenly Chord 

Will cling while life remains. 
77 



jCl«e0t of C6e Cfttist 



"Peace! Peace!" was the burden, 

Peace to all mankind! 
Give Love, glad Joy and Comfort 

And Life Eternal find." 



?8 



THE BETRAYAL of MIKE GRADY 

A REMINISCENCE 
OF THE FOURTH WARD, NEW YORK, 

AS TOLD BV 

TIM CASEY. 



^utst of Clbe Cf)ri0t 



THE BETRAYAL OF MIKE GRADY. 

*'Mike Grady mixed the mortar 

We carried in th' hod, 

A foine big strapping fellow, 

Just landed from th' 'sod.' 

An' while he stirred th' mixture 

He whistled all the day, 

An' was such a tearin' worker 

Th' ould boss raised his pay. 

The years rolled by, he seemed 

To mount be leaps and bounds at will, 

The way the goold rolled t'ward him 

'Tw'ud make yere heart stan' still. 

Honors came both thick and fast, 

Be the Pope he was made a Count, 

Still, f'r all his wealth 

I heard him thus commint: 

'Tim Casy, ye've been me life-long frind, 

Ye know I'll spake the truth, 

I'd gladly part with all me pile 

If 'twud give me back me youth. 

I'd like to be a b'y ag'in an' attind th' wakes 
once more, 

An' make ould Shannon fightin' mad f'r spit- 
tin' on his floor.' 

*'He stood before the door beyant 
A silk tile on his head, 

8i 



£Xuest of Cfje €bti0t 



His face looked wan, f'r all the smile 

An' these few words he sed: 

'Tim, if time permits, come up to-night, 

We'll have a smoke an' drink, 

I want to aise me mind f'r light 

Before I cross th' brink.' 

'Sez I, now Mike, don't ask a foolish thing, 

I couldn't stand the sthyle, 

If th' flunkey at the door 'ud grin, 

Ye'd hear me roar a mile. 

What wud the missis say to see the likes av 

me, 
Th' swell front marble walk come up 
With steps so bold and free? 
Sthill, if I must, I'll go or bust 
An' ould frind to oblige, 
At eight to-night I'll hove in sight, 
Me b'y depind on me.' 

"The shades of night rolled down at last 
Th' noise of day was spint, 
An' av the promise t' me frind 
Me heart did sore repint, 
If, Mike himself wud ope the door 
Th' thing wud be all right, 
But! a brass-faced-flunkey to sthare at me, 
I know I'd want t' fight. 
Luck f'r once was on me side 
F'r on the sthoop wns Mike, 
A smile lit up his pallid face, 

82 



in jeetu gorfe Citg 



But not wan trace of pride. 

'Come In me b'y» we're all alone, 

The servants are below, 

The wife Is gone across th' sea 

In furrin climes to roam. 

We'll have a smoke, an' ould-time drink, 

A heart-t'-heart frind's talk, 

An' thin to see the star-light shine 

We'll take a little walk.' 

"A lump of ice closed round me heart, 
Within that splindid home, 
Something tould me Love dwelt not 
Beneath Its lordly dome. 
We wint upstairs thru the spacious hall 
Where art and wealth held sway. 
But hope and trust had fled the roof 
Where Love refused to stay. 
Poor Mike Invited me to rest 
In a chair of r'yal state, 
His noble efforts to hide his grief 
A martyr couldn't bate." 
There's times In life whin words are poor 
One's feelln's to express 
When man meets man as soul to soul 
Whin a frlnd Is In duress 
From shame and sorrow that seal his lips. 
Aye, at the cost of life, 
B'cause, the one who forged th' chains, 
That one, he called his wife. 

83 



!^nm of cije Cfetist 



" 'I suppose, frlnd Tim, ye thought a whim 

Has brought ye here to-night. 

God knows I'm glad to see a face 

That's Ht with honor bright, 

F'r men are rare who'll stand the glare 

Of God's all-searching light, 

Unlike the leopard, brave and strong, 

Who does not change his spots, 

These beasts of prey in human form, 

The selfish, sin-clad sots. 

Will pray and rob, will smile and stab, 

Will prate of human wrong 

An' all the while they'll stoop to guile, 

Unknown to the passing throng. 

Much goold doth cover scarlet sin 

An' hearts cry out in vain, 

F'r the love that's slain 

Be these monster's cruel darts. 

Regret, remorse, red-visaged shame 

Tinge the point of the arrow 

Sent in passion's name." 

" 'Ye understan' me, Tim, I need not say 

much more, 
The madness of revenge is passed, 
I'm free from human gore ; 
I'll leave to Him to right all wrongs 
Who marks th' sparrows' fall, 
I'll try to drink with a smiling face 
Me cup of sin-cursed gall. 

84 



in Betu gorfe Citp 



Come, frlnd, let's drink, 'twill help to lift 

The icy, clutching pall 

That with a numbness as av death 

Me senses wild enthrall. 

Cheer up ! me b'y, men must endure 

F'r justice, right and truth. 

Here's to the ould days 

Whin I was free from care, 

Whin next me heart in blissful trust 

I held two jewels rare. 

One was faith in a boundless God, 

One, was trust in a fellow man. 

The first is here within me breast, 

The last, I fail to scan. 

Someday, perhaps, in future lives, 

They say, 'we're born again,' 

The lov'e I proffered here so true, 

Will then, be not in vain.' 

"We wint out 'neath the star-lit sky 
So peaceful and serene, 
'Twas hard to breathe, the air felt hot 
I thought it all a dream. 
No word was spoken 'twixt us two 
Until we reached a street 
That held fond mem'ries for us both 
F'r here we used to meet 
To worship in the humble Church 
An' offer prayers to God, 
We both professed the ardent faith 
85 



£[Xi\t^t of Clje Cl)tigt 



We brought from the dear oiild sod. 

"Tim, I'll say good night! 

Much better do I feel, 

An' ould-time peace, a soothing calm 

Does o'er me senses steal. 

The whys and wheres, the ups and downs, 

Why life is thus and so? 

These questions oft perplex one's mind, 

But — this one thing I knozv, 

No matter what th' storms and strife, 

The rain, th' sleet, th' chill, 

Th' loss of frinds, aye! death if need, 

God's love Is with us still, 

An' as I clasp y're honest hand 

An' feel its friendly thrill, 

I say 'tis best this seeming ill 

Th' love we give's not lost, no matter how, 

no matter where? 
It will repay the cost." 

"Next day strange tidings were abroad. 
They wint the usual round 
Of great, big head-lines in the press. 
Because a man was found 
Dead! Alone in his palatial home, 
No wife, nor child in sight! 
The flunkey who described the scene 
Was nearly dead from fright. 
An inquest held, the verdict stood 
86 



in jBettJ gorfe (Hit^ 



At which not one will start, 

A multi-millionaire had died 

Fr'm the failure of his heart. 

Oh! marvel strange, as if a clock 

Was ever known to tick 

With its main-spring smashed, the silly talk 

It almost made me sick. 

All honors to th' dead were paid 

They placed him in a vault, 

Th' eulogy was preached in which 'twas said 

*Of earth he was the salt.' 

Rich men were there 

Who bowed in prayer 

God grant they were sincere, 

As th' beauteous flowers that gave their lives 

To deck me lost frind's bier. 

"How many dreamed that the noble heart 

That lay so calm and still 

Was pierced and rent 

By an arrow sent 

From the shaft of a woman's will. 

Who bent on high ambition's road 

None dared to bar her way, 

An' if love paid f'r her maddened shame 

In death it loved her still, 

Th' one desire of that broken lyre 

Was to shield her name fr'm ill. 

Oh! matchless power of unselfish love 

Its slayer thus to save, 

87 , 



€lue0t of C5e Cftrfsft 



Thank God to know 

That the seed we sow 

We'll reap beyond the grave.' 



TONES FROM THE VOICE OF 
THE WIND. 



€tue0t of Cf)c Cbrist, 



TONES FROM THE VOICE OF THE 
WIND. 

A REVERIE. 

I Stood on the hill and seemed to Hear 

A visible Music drawing near 

Whose tones were hushed 

As in dreamland's sleep, 

A tryst with one's inmost soul to keep. 

The mystic Music whispered clear 

"At your call I came, lo ! I am here, 

I'm Nature's voice, what woulds't thou 

know? 
Then learn from me to serve and grow.'* 



TWILIGHT HOUR. 

Hark! Yon vesper bell is pealing. 
Sweet-toned music in the Twilight Hour, 
Nearer! nearer! now 'tis stealing, 
Wakes the soul to God-like power. 
'Tis the sacred hour of silence 
Now, when Night's first shadows fall, 
The air swings incense from sweet flowrets, 
Breathing blessings to us all. 



91 



€tue0t of Clje Cl)ri0t 



THE SONG OF THE FLOWERS. 

"We are Nature's sweetest singers, 
Songs of joy and love we sing 
To the worn and foot-sore pilgrim, 
Thoughts of peace, and solace bring. 
Listen to our tender pleading 
As we breathe a fragrant prayer. 
Be still! and learn life's precious secret, 
'Tis murmuring in the sun-kissed air." 



THE SONG OF THE GOLDEN-ROD. 

"I'm a flame! a clear flame 
Of the sun-beam's throb, 
As I wave in the breeze 
And my bright plumes nod, 
I sing the glad song 
Of dear Nature's power, 
Of the Voice of God 
In a wayside flower," 



92 



in H^eUJ gotk Citp 



THE POPPY'S SECRET. 

Would'st know the poppy's secret, 

Hid from the eyes of men? 

The power to enter dreamland's sphere 

And be a child again? 

Let go all thoughts of vain regret, 

The past blooms not again, 

The poppy grows 

Where the Now Wind blows 

Nor waits for future rains. 



THE FAIRIES' FAREWELL TO THE 
MOON. 

"Farewell ! dear moon, our revel's over, 
Thy tender beams gave great delight, 
Sweet thoughts of thee will always hover 
In memory's halls to bless this night. 
Too soon will Earth's shade hide thy splen- 
dor, 
In ether's realm thou'lt speed afar. 
Thru mountain mist and cloudlets tender, 
To greet thy friend, the Morning Star." 

THE END. 



93 



OUR NEWEST ISSUES 

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